Five Drabbles for Five Friends
by Merith
Summary: Five drabbles, implied Heero/Duo, Trowa/Quatre. A little angst, some sap, humor, and an AU or two. Enjoy!


**Five Drabbles, Five friends**

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***Duo for FemaleShinigami***

He shifts without meaning to, and his eyes open wide, his flesh twitches even as he moves back into position. But, he's fully awake now, and staring into the dark of his room. He knows he's being silly; for being slightly miffed at the situation, for not waking his lover (for whatever reason), for not taking care of it immediately. It has been days since they'd last seen one another, and even in his somnolent state, Heero refuses to sleep without a little _incentive_, incentive Duo is more than happy to provide.

Too eager, too tired for more, a handful of kisses (of the hot and devouring kind), lots of bump-n-grind motion, and the feel of skin on skin, leaves them both with an immediate release. One that might have been embarrassing if they were younger or first dating, but, after nearly ten years, it is satisfying for the moment. There will be other encounters when neither are too tired, or too eager; encounters that will linger and fulfill.

'Tomorrow, mid-morning,' he thinks, closing his eyes, and tries to stay on his not-quite two-foot section of dry sheet.

***&***

***Heero for Jade Sage***... she'd asked for Heero in a skirt, but didn't _quite_ make it.

Their shared office is quiet, his partner seeming to be totally absorbed in his work. Heero flicks a quick look in his direction, verifying that he _is_ working, and opens a web browser. He types in the URL by memory, and three mouse clicks later, he is at the selection page, scrolling through the proffered inventory.

Black, tight, and leather are his basic requirements. Choice of length and texture will come in reviewing the details. Matte or shiny, mini, short, or knee-length. Heero pulls his lower lips in between his teeth, and bites in concentration. His eyes flick upward, contemplate his partner again, before dropping back to the narrowed selection on the page.

Five minutes have passed, and Heero is no closer to a decision. He clicks on the next choice and hears Duo whisper in his ear, "Yes, that one." And he is jerking his head around in shock, only to find – no one there.

"Everything okay?" Duo asks from his place at his desk.

Heero's cheeks redden slightly, and he gives his partner a brief nod. Duo grins in his direction, and returns to his computer.

In less than a week, it will be Duo's birthday (or at least, the date Duo chose to celebrate his birthday), and this year, Heero decides to go _give in_ to one of Duo's fantasies. For the past two weeks, he has been coming to this site, trying to decide, knowing he could never make this sort of choice in person, at a shop in front of other people. This is his last day to order, and have it delivered in time. He makes his choice, adds a couple of other items he'd already decided on, and checks out, paying for the articles with his credit card information given from memory.

It is near lunch time, and he clears the browser history, makes a note to scrub his access from the company server and logs. He is closing down the browser when he notices Duo smiling intently at his own computer, and he frowns.

"Everything… alright?" he asks suddenly.

"Hmmm?" Duo hums, looks up and smiles at him. "Never better, Heero. Never better." His fingers move in practiced strokes, as he adds, "Ready for lunch?"

Heero nods, locking his own computer, and rising. He adds another note to check the server logs to see just what Duo has been up to; the man is entirely too amused to be innocently working.

***&***

***An amused Wufei for Salamandere***

When his partners came back from lunch, he wanted to laugh. Or at least snicker. He had spent the last hour envisioning the expressions on both their faces, had debated on whose desk the gift should have been left on. In the end, he knew Yuy's was the perfect choice. Based on break room talk, Maxwell had already been the recipient of more than one gift of the type.

Yuy received his fair share of admirers, but none seemed brave enough to broach his …demeanor.

The box of candy, he knew, was just the right touch. Not too much to make him suspicious, and yet, just enough to know _someone_ was interested. Now to see just what Maxwell was going to do about it, what his reaction would be.

Wufei studiously kept his head bent over the paperwork on his desk, though he watched from the corners of his eyes.

Maxwell had been talking, yapping about some car show they were planning to attend that Saturday. He stopped talking mid-sentence, and Wufei seized the chance. He looked their way just as Yuy reached for the shiny red heart, and schooled his face into a neutral expression. Yuy unfolded the note, holding the gift, and scanned its contents.

"Hey!" Maxwell exclaimed, reaching for the box. "Chocolates!"

"No!" Yuy jerked the candies away.

"I always share mine," Maxwell groused, shrugging out of his jacket, and throwing a mild glare at his partner.

"They might be poisoned," Yuy murmured, reading the note again.

Wufei choked, drawing both of their attention. "What—why—" he cleared his throat and tried again. "Why would you think that?"

Yuy's eyebrows raised, and he flicked his glance at the box he still held. "Did you see who left these?"

Shaking his head to the negative, he consoled himself with the lie by the logic that he hadn't _seen_ himself leave them.

"The note isn't signed. There have been threats before, and this would be the perfect avenue to…"

"Make some poor shy girl unhappy," Maxwell interjected. He had crossed to his own desk, and was sitting at his chair, still glaring in annoyance. "No wonder no one gives you anything – thinking diabolical plots and schemes in everything."

"And why would some girl I don't know want to give me anything?" Yuy demanded.

Maxwell shrugged, and crossed his hands behind his head. "How should I know? I'm not a girl."

"No, you're not," Yuy conceded. He folded the note with a sigh and turned to the door. "I'm still having them tested though."

Left staring at the empty spot Yuy had disappeared through, Wufei wasn't sure whether to beat his head against the desk or begin planning the next step.

"I think being upfront and honest with how you feel is the best policy," Maxwell said softly.

Looking at his remaining partner sharply, Wufei opened his mouth to deny any involvement. Maxwell arrested the action by plucking from his trash can the plastic bag of the drug store down the street where he'd purchased the chocolates. "It's… it's not what you think."

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but I'm warning you now, I don't share and friend or no, if you hurt Heero, I'll kick your ass."

"Uh, Maxwell…" Wufei blinked at the suddenly serious – instantly _dangerous_ man. "I wasn't… I'm not…" it clicked, and he was left asking with reluctant curiosity. "You don't… share?"

"No. Never." The reply came in short, piercing bullets.

Wufei started to smile softly. "That's… good," he murmured, and decided to go back to work. A minute later, another thought registered. "Maxwell," he began, his ears pinking. "Tell Yuy to ignore any deliveries he receives over the next couple of days."

***&***

***Quatre for (predictable) Darthanne***

It has been a busy day, busier than the entire week combined. So when his private line rings, he answers with his mind still on the meeting just attended, and switching to the one he's about to attend. It is Duo, and Quatre listens to his talk, but continues with pulling up the agenda for the next meeting, his mind working on whom to assign the tasks from the latest planning committee.

"…just the two of us, and we wound up at that Mexican shop…" Duo is saying.

"Yes, I know the one," Quatre murmurs encouragingly, hitting print, and closing down the word doc. He has what he needs for the meeting in… (a glance at the clock) three minutes. Duo continues to tell him about the menu and what was ordered, and Quatre opens an email communication to pass off the list of items to one of the five assistants. He bullets the tasks needing to be finished by close of business, and prioritizes the others if there is time left in the day.

"…wasn't expecting _that_ question, so I told him the truth."

"Always the best policy, isn't it?" Quatre says soothingly, a tendril of thought wondering why Duo was suddenly agitated by telling the truth.

"Glad to hear that buddy," Duo says, and Quatre pauses in typing the memo. He faces the vid monitor, and _looks_ at Duo for the first time since answering. "'Cause I have to tell ya, Trowa's on his way over there to uh… talk about it in person."

His mind slams shut, and Quatre does a quick rewind of Duo's conversation. Duo meets Trowa for lunch. They eat at the Mexican place Trowa likes. Trowa asks Duo …

"What… what in the hell have you done, Duo?" he asks, his face whitening.

Duo visibly swallows, his eyes widen, and he flushes bright red. "I didn't mean to tell him like that, honest! I was just so surprised…"

"Duo?" Quatre asks softly, but his attention is diverted to the office door opening, his executive assistant telling someone he isn't to be disturbed, and suddenly, Trowa is there.

"Everything all right, Quat?" Duo's voice sounds far away of a sudden, and Quatre cannot take his eyes off Trowa; Trowa as he's never seen him before.

"Quatre has to go now, Duo," Trowa says, reaching over the desk to hit the disconnect button.

"Tro—" Quatre's voice cracks, his mouth dry.

"I can call security," his assistant offers from the doorway, knowing Mister Barton is a friend – a close personal friend – but afraid of the sudden overwhelming presence of him on this visit.

"No," Quatre says, tearing his eyes from Trowa's, and putting a little more firmness in his tone. "There's no need." He smiles for the woman, hoping to reassure. "And Grace," he adds as she starts to leave, "Please reschedule the two o'clock, cancel the three, and…" his eyes return to Trowa's. "I'll let you know about the rest of the day."

"Yes, sir," she says, hesitating with her hand on the doorknob, glancing between the two. The hint of threat is gone, and something else is charging the room. Closing the door behind her, she smiles, and plans to have TBG reroute all incoming calls to her line, and reschedule or outright cancel all Mister Winner's meetings for the rest of the day. Anything short of a major disaster could wait until her young man _finally_ confesses to his young man.

***&***

***Trowa, Duo friendship for Leftminds***

I am no longer eating; any interest in the sandwich on my tray disappears when I hear the slur. At first, I believe I am the target, since it wouldn't be the first time, but a quick glance tells me I am not. Though I am surprised by who is, and by his reaction. It isn't the first time he's taken his share of teasing, his share of jibes, and I wonder as his shoulders hunch deeper in his jacket as he leaves the cafeteria. He usually has three methods of dealing with jerks like that: ignoring them as if they do not exist, laughing and agreeing congenially with his detractors, or flipping them off.

The jocks at the next table over laugh, high-fiving each other, derisive comments are traded. I notice the one that is not participating, but instead, he watches the door their daily target left through. He realizes I am staring at him, and scowls at me. I continue to stare, letting him see nothing of what I am thinking. A handful of seconds pass before I rise, taking my tray to the disposal site, and dumping the waste. I have an idea on where he has gone; it won't take any time to catch up. And if I'm wrong, there is always tomorrow.

He is on the roof, where he usually goes when he's either too angry or upset to trust himself. I join him at the wire mesh fence, and let the wind cool my own face. It is in silence we stare out over the town – the little slice of it we can see. It is on my lips to tell him what jerks they are, but he knows that already. I would give him the platitudes of comfort, the ones I am offered when facing the same taunts and jibes, but I have told him these before. He knows it will get better, that people do mature, and life isn't stuck at sixteen.

There will be a day, and God I sure hope it is soon, that the one he is interested shows that he is interested as well. The look I was given tells me it will happen. But, until that day when _he_ is here to offer silent support, it will be my job; just as it has always been Duo's for me, and still is in a lot of respects, even if I have my own someone.

Because, that's what friends do.

***&***

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